Glow
by Rhanon Brodie
Summary: a short piece I was compelled to write one night when I couldn't continue with Not Quite Bors. If you get it, you get it, and I think you'll laugh. Rated M for mature themes but it's more humorous than anything. Tristan/OC


Galahad watched with wide-eyed interest as Tristan slowly made his way back down the tavern stairs

Galahad watched with wide-eyed interest as Tristan slowly made his way back down the tavern stairs. The scout had disappeared a while back, seeming to stalk one of the pretty young girls up to one of the many rooms. Now Tristan almost swaggered – a move usually reserved for Lancelot – and he winked at Galahad as he sat back down with a satisfied smile. He ordered ale and drank deep, smirking at Galahad the whole time.

Not minutes later, the little dark-haired girl that Tristan had hunted returned, coming down the stairs with slow, easy steps, her limbs almost trembling and her face a mask of utter satisfaction. He had never seen a girl look like that before, even those that left Lancelot and Gawain's rooms in the small hours before dawn. Galahad tilted his head and chewed his lip, trying to figure out what exactly the scout had done.

"Stop staring," Tristan scolded around a mouthful of apple.

Galahad looked over. "Hmm?" He blushed as Tristan's eyes pierced him. "I wasn't…wasn't staring, Tristan."

The scout snorted and scraped his chair closer to Galahad's, his long fingered hand wrapping about his mug and brining it along. "Yes," he breathed, "you were." He sighed as Galahad's blue eyes narrowed and focused on the girl again and Tristan reached out and cuffed the youth on the ear. "And you still are," Tristan growled. "Why?"

Galahad blinked rapidly as he rubbed his offended ear. "Why what?" he spat petulantly.

Tristan rolled his golden eyes and nodded to the dark haired girl who was doing her best not to glance at Tristan and blush. He caught her glance once and winked, slowly licking his lips, and Galahad looked to watch the girl blush furiously and duck her head, a broad smile splitting her face.

Tristan turned back to Galahad. "Why are you staring at Sabine?" The scout leaned back in his chair, his lanky frame sprawling gracefully. "She is pretty, I'll admit that. But there is something about her that intrigues you, pup, else you wouldn't be staring so intently."

Galahad looked back into his ale and shrugged. "It's nothing," he sighed, somewhat defeated. He was _dying _to know how a man, let alone a supposed brute like Tristan, could make a woman…well, for lack of a better term…_glow_.

Tristan smirked but played along. "All right," he settled before standing and leaning over the table to see the dice game Gawain and Jols had started. "I think I'll join your brother there," Tristan decided, and he stepped over his chair only to be stopped by Galahad's voice.

"Wait!" Perhaps a little too loudly. Gawain swung his golden head up from his hand and looked at the younger knight with a quizzical scowl. Galahad looked back to Tristan and found the scout's eyes focused on where Galahad was gripping his arm. The young knight 'eeped' and snatched his hand back as if Tristan had burned him. "I…I mean…oh, sons of Ilkay, this is so embarrassing."

Tristan had to smirk again and he slowly lowered himself into his seat once more. "What is it, pup?" He flicked his honeyed gaze to Sabine once more. "Ah," he breathed, looking back to Galahad. "You want to know something…about women, I take it?"

"Sod it, Tristan. Forget it."

Tristan licked his teeth like the wolf he was and leaned close to Galahad. "Oh no, my young brother. I'm intrigued now, I won't forget it. What is it you would like to know?" He glanced to Gawian and then found Lancelot, almost completely lost behind a gaggle of soft female flesh. "What is it that I can tell you that Gawain or Lancelot cannot? Hmm? They seem to have no problems with the fairer sex…" He trailed off and took a healthy swig of ale, wondering if Galahad was going to man up and…

"How do you make a woman glow?"

Tristan sputtered and the mouthful of ale sprayed out. Those surrounding the table all paused and turned to see Arthur's stealthy scout coughing and wiping away the ale that now dribbled down the front of his hauberek. Gawain even stood from his dice and craned his neck, fixing both Galahad and Tristan with a curious stare. Then he shrugged and hunkered down again, placing his bet.

Tristan eyed Galahad with menace as he continued to mop up his tunic and breeches. "What?" he hissed with a sneer.

Galahad rolled his eyes, hoping that he wouldn't have to repeat himself. He sucked in a deep breath and faced Tristan, his gaze unfaltering. "How do you make a woman look like…like _that_, Tristan?"

Tristan pondered the youngling's words for a moment and then smiled slowly. Almost with pride. He turned his head once more to find Sabine and to stare at her intently, and Tristan watched with satisfaction as the tray she carried began to wobble, the cups on top shaking dramatically and spilling their contents. Then he looked back to Galahad.

The scout grinned and slowly raised his hand, extending his forefinger and crooking it. Then he slowing curled his finger forward and Galahad took it as a cue to scuttle in closer to the scout.

Tristan scowled and shook his head, shoving Galahad back. Hiding the highly amused grin behind his cup he nodded faintly. "We have a lot of work to do, I think."


End file.
